FLYBY (b. bradshaw)

𝙏𝙃𝙄𝙍𝙏𝙔-𝙀𝙄𝙂𝙃𝙏

Lilah could feel Bradley's eyes boring into the side of her head she she studied the ruined tarmac through a pair of binocular's.

"I am not crazy," she repeated for what felt like the thousandth time. "Seeing as you went and go your jet blown up, this is our best shot of getting the fuck out of here."

"You're not serious," Bradley muttered in disbelief, as if he hasn't heard what she'd just said. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes at him. "You can't be serious."

"Of course I'm serious," Lilah said as she pushed herself out of the snow. "I'd never joke about something like this."

He followed her down the steep slope of snow, ducking behind bushes and trees. "Are you sure you didn't hit your head?"

"I'm going to hit you in the head," Lilah whined to herself as they stopped yet again. Bradley scowled as she flipped him off. "No, I didn't hit my head. This plan is just crazy enough to gt us out of here, Maverick would approve."

"Maverick isn't here," Bradley pointed out, as Lilah doubled over, trying to catch her breath.

"I wish you weren't here," Lilah grumbled, struggling to take another step. "Look, we need a plane, and there's the only planes for miles, so just shove it up your ass."

Bradley's response was closing his eyes and taking a few deep breaths. Lilah did roll her eyes as she saw him count to ten. Once he was done with his meditation, he nodded forward, signaling her to keep moving.

She tried, and failed, her steps choppy and uneven. Walking down the sloop was hard enough, but with the snow and ice that covered the ground, it was nearly impossible on her leg.

Bradley watched her struggle for about another minute. Each time he tried to hook his arms under hers, she waved him off with a wince. As soon as she looked away, he threw her over his shoulder and started down the slope once again, ignoring the constant pounding of her fists to his lower back.

He dropped her in the snow as the land turned flat and the tarmac was bout 10 yards away. Lilah slipped the binocular's out of her pocket and handed them to him.

"That's the only hanger that wasn't blow up," she said, pointing the one right in front of them.

Bradley snatched the binocular's from her grasp and took a long look. He was much to still for Lilah's liking. The only sound was a blaring alarm from the chaos ridden tarmac.

"You've got to be shitting me," he said, once he was done. He chunked the object in his hand at her. "An F-14?"

"Maverick's shot down three MiGs in one of those, and Granddaddy got half of his kills in them," Lilah pointed out. "And that's what I was first taught combat in, first ever plane I flew."

"We don't even know if that bag of ass can fly."

Lilah raised her eyebrows at his point, but shrugged. "I guess we'll find out."

"L!" Bradley hissed after her, watching for a moment before he decided to follow. "Okay."

Lilah was walking on the tarmac as she heard Bradley come up behind her. She felt him slip, almost eating shit. Both of their breathing was labored, and heavy.

"Breath any louder and we'll alert the whole country we're here." she said, continuing forward as he tried to hold onto her suit and pull her into him.

"There's guy over there, Lilah," Bradley said, ignoring her snide remark.

"Yep."

"There's more over there."